Healing the Voice Within: Giving Hope to Your Younger Self

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Speaker 1 – Prerecorded Announcer

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Speaker 2 – Dr. James Hough, Host

The speaker identifies himself as Dr. James Hough and delivers the full program. The automated transcript renders his surname several different ways, including “Hout,” “Hauck,” and “Howe.” The introductory identification and the host’s first self-identification support the consistent rendering “Hough.”

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Speaker 1 – Prerecorded Announcer:

And now, with over 25 years of experience integrating mental health and spirituality, the author of Reclaiming Authenticity: When Ancestors Weep and Redeeming the Bereaved, here is Dr. James Hough.

Speaker 2 – Dr. James Hough, Host:

All right. Good evening, everybody, wherever you are in the world today, and welcome to Reclaiming Authenticity, helping you find the courage to reclaim that which has always been within you. In fact, the program helps you reclaim who you have always been and who you truly are.

I am very excited to be with you tonight and every other Wednesday evening at 9:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time and 6:00 p.m. Pacific Standard Time.

Each broadcast is dedicated to integrating spirituality and mental health, all within the context of our relationships—especially our relationships with ourselves, others, and God or the Divine.

I am Dr. James Hough. If you would like more information about me or would like to leave comments about tonight’s show, I invite you to visit www.bbsradio.com/ReclaimingAuthenticity or www.reclaiming-authenticity.com.

Typically, this is where I ask you to call in if you would like to participate, but not tonight because this is a prerecorded show. I cannot be in five different places at once, but the show must go on.

In case you cannot spend the entire hour with me this evening, the broadcast will be posted on the BBS Radio website so that you can listen later or check the archives for previous shows you may have missed. These podcasts are also available for download through iTunes, Audible, Spotify, and Amazon Music.

I am in my sixth year, going into my seventh year, with BBS Radio. These broadcasts have always focused on the continuing integration of spirituality and mental health. I place that integration against the backdrop of relationships because relationships are where our integration and transformation truly occur. We are social beings.

This integration of spirituality and mental health is essential because our minds are filled with all kinds of things. Our minds interpret what we take in through our senses, based on what we see, hear, smell, taste, and touch. The mind decides whether something feels good, smells pleasant or unpleasant, looks enjoyable, or appears horrifying.

That is the mind’s interpretation, and it is based on our previous experiences, education, upbringing, and many other influences. However quickly the mind interprets what we perceive, it may fail to capture deeper lessons, realities, and greater truths.

Right behind the mind’s interpretation comes the ego. The ego is very self-centered, but it is also extremely limited. It follows closely behind the mind’s interpretations and tries to take over, keeping us from knowing ourselves as vast and eternal souls and from living in forgiveness, gratitude, bliss, and love. The ego is out for itself. It asks, “What do I get out of this? What is in my best interest?”

Unfortunately, the ego can lead us astray through selfish thoughts, pursuits, and a lower level of consciousness bound by time, space, and causation. We may not want to think about our egos in this way, but it is important, especially within the context of integrating mental health and spirituality.

At the same time, how often are we guilty of not paying attention to the distorted templates created by the ego and mind—templates that can teach us something about ourselves and show us where healing and transformation are still needed?

On one hand, I am telling you to be careful because the ego can wreak havoc. On the other hand, I am saying that we need to pay attention to it because it holds up a mirror. Even though the ego is limited and self-interested, it can reveal what we still need to address in our lives.

The ego may show us that we carry unforgiveness, grudges, bitterness, or a lack of gratitude. It may show us the times when we are harsh with ourselves or others, when we are mean-spirited, or when we carry hatred toward others that may even extend toward ourselves.

There is a tremendous difference between what I would call worldly love, which is most familiar to us, and godly or divine love.

According to my dear teacher, we often use the words “I love you,” but the kind of love we are usually talking about is conditional. It is temporary and changes as the mind moves between conflicting emotions that may include envy, jealousy, and hatred.

That kind of love can be controlling because it is conditional: “I love you when you do this,” or, “If you want me to love you, then you will do this.” You can hear the conditional language.

Godly or divine love, on the other hand, is not entangled in the human emotions of the mind. Divine love is eternal and unconditional. It helps us purify our minds by realizing our oneness with all people and all things.

That is really what reclaiming authenticity is about. It can be summed up in one word: namaste. Roughly translated, because I see myself as a soul of light, I am able to greet the lighted soul within you, even if you do not yet see it within yourself.

The integration of spirituality and mental health begins here. When we examine and implement an understanding of oneness and connectedness, we come face-to-face with the whole world of our lives. Within relationships, we encounter some of our deepest physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual wounds.

When this occurs, it is not difficult to imagine that we may struggle to find happiness, joy, and contentment. We often discover that the larger our egos become, the greater our sorrows become.

Eventually, however, the ego brings us back to the need to come to terms with the relationships in our lives, especially the woundedness present within families, friendships, workplaces, and other relationships. Godly or divine love can heal and transform those wounds into something more life-giving, tangible, and eternal. When that occurs, we discover happiness, joy, and contentment.

This transformation is especially needed for people whom society regards as unlovable, unreachable, or untouchable. When we integrate healthier ways of suppressing the ego by embracing our own value, dignity, and worth as souls—and by recognizing the value, dignity, and worth of other souls—we transform. It is inevitable.

One of my favorite sayings is that we have to remain faithful to the integration. The more we integrate, the more likely it is that transformation will eventually emerge.

We not only transform ourselves; through our presence, grace, and understanding, we can also help transform others. That understanding comes with forgiveness, gratitude, and love.

One of my favorite authors, the Dutch priest and professor Henri Nouwen, put it another way. He said that simply by paying attention to what is happening around us, we discover people who can heal one another’s wounds and forgive one another’s offenses. We can share our possessions, foster a spirit of community, celebrate the gifts we and others have received, and live in constant anticipation of the full manifestation of God’s glory.

That is largely how he lived his life. He had that kind of presence.

Do not become trapped in the illusion that you have to search for something you already possess. I can speak from experience because I traveled all over the world thinking, “If I go here, I will find it,” or, “If I go there, I will finally have it.”

Eventually, I realized that every journey brought me back to where I was and that I already possessed what I had been searching for. I simply did not realize it.

Discover who you are, and be that soulful presence in the world.

Welcome to tonight’s show. It has a unique title: “If You Can See Me Now: Hope for the Past.” Does that make sense? Hope for the past? You will understand the idea as we continue.

How many of you have seen a photograph or social-media image that matches a younger and an older version of the same person?

I have seen videos that begin with a person in their twenties or thirties. Then the person’s older, present-day self comes and sits beside the younger version on a bench or couch. You get to see the younger and older versions together. It is pretty cool.

The first time I saw images like these, they featured celebrities in their prime alongside much older versions of themselves, even celebrities who had already died. It is interesting to compare their features and see how they changed over the years, although I am sure artificial intelligence was involved in some way.

More and more people are creating younger and older versions of themselves. It is easy to do. You can open the Gemini app on your phone or laptop, upload photographs, and ask it to create that type of image.

When you look at yourself in a before-and-after image, or compare your past and present selves, have you ever stopped to consider what your older self would say to your younger self?

Perhaps you have taken out old pictures and said, “Look how young I was. Look at my straight teeth. Look how much thinner I was. I had such beautiful red hair. I had such beautiful blonde hair. Look how much hair I used to have.”

It can be a lot of fun. We can imagine many physical differences when comparing two versions of ourselves, but are there other things you would like to say to your younger self now that you are older and, hopefully, wiser?

Would you say, “Kid, I wish you had known that it was all right in front of you. You did not have anything to worry about. Everything was going to work out just fine”?

What do you imagine your younger self would like to say to you now?

Let me tell you a little secret: we do not have to imagine what that conversation would sound like. Many of us continue having those conversations today whenever we are reminded of unhealed childhood wounds.

Those conversations can occur anywhere—at work, in a restaurant, at home, at school, or elsewhere. The location does not matter because these conversations often arise in the midst of relationships.

The conversations may sound like our present-day voices, but what we hear comes from a much deeper and more distant place: younger versions of ourselves that have not yet resolved trauma, disappointment, toxic family patterns, or relational issues.

I can hear you saying, “Dr. Hough, I am not eight years old anymore. I am 57, 43, or 81 years old.”

That is true, but there is still a voice within each of us that carries underlying notes of woundedness, and those wounds come from relationships.

We often consider the other person in a relationship, but how frequently do we pay attention to the relationship we have with ourselves? I am not talking about an interpersonal relationship. I am talking about an intrapersonal relationship.

Ironically, it is within that relationship that we find our greatest potential to give hope to our past by healing the relationship we have within ourselves.

It is unusual to speak of hope for the past because hope is future-oriented. Hope normally places us in the category of what has not yet happened. Why, then, make such a fuss about digging up the past? After all, what happened in the past is in the past.

That brings me to one of my favorite scenes from The Lion King. If you have seen the movie, you probably know the scene I am going to reference.

Rafiki tells Simba, who has been searching for his father, “I know where he is. Follow me.” Rafiki leads him to what may be a marsh or another open part of the Serengeti. It is nighttime, and there is a great deal of symbolism in the setting.

Simba has an encounter with his father, Mufasa. Simba asks, “Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me?” Mufasa responds, “Remember who you are.”

After the storm dies down, Rafiki returns. Simba is questioning what happened, and he says something about the winds of change. Rafiki agrees that change is good and then strikes Simba on the head with his staff.

Simba reacts, “What did you do that for?”

Rafiki replies, “It doesn’t matter. It is in the past.”

The past can still hurt, but the way I see it, you can either run from it or learn from it.

That is a powerful scene, not merely a Disney scene for children. There is deep spiritual wisdom in the interaction between Simba and Rafiki.

Why is revisiting the past essential to healing? Can we simply ignore it? We would if we could.

In reality, we are not the ones digging up the past. Unresolved childhood issues are the ones carrying the picks and shovels.

Resolving childhood issues comes in many shapes, sizes, and depths. These issues may emerge through arguments with friends, family members, and coworkers; frustration over childhood rules; or emotional disturbances.

Healing childhood wounds is a key part of healthy mental, emotional, and spiritual development, and that work has no expiration date. Childhood woundedness can certainly hinder spiritual growth.

Consider the passage in 1 Corinthians 13 in which the Apostle Paul writes, “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, and I thought as a child. But when I became a man”—or a woman—“I put away childish things.”

In this context, Paul uses childhood as an analogy for the limits of a child’s understanding and reasoning. He contrasts those limitations with the maturity and discernment that, hopefully, come with adulthood and spiritual growth.

I say “hopefully” because healing from childish things is not automatic. It is not guaranteed simply because someone is an adult in their thirties, forties, or fifties.

The passage suggests that while childlike qualities such as innocence and humility are valuable, we are called to develop deeper understanding, wisdom, and responsibility in our faith, our decisions, and our spirituality.

Growing as a person and reaching developmental benchmarks do not necessarily happen automatically. If there is to be healing, growth, and depth in the integration of mental health and spirituality, then childhood wounds must be healed.

I cannot tell you how often I sit with couples in marriage or premarital counseling who are having relationship problems, only to discover that they are working out unresolved childhood issues with one another.

When couples recognize this, they may finally say, “Now I understand what the real issue is.” They can learn not to take personally everything their partner or spouse says, does not say, does, or does not do. Those reactions often come from a deeper place that has never healed, and the same can be true for both partners.

Let us consider some practical ways to begin healing the inner child by looking at the first six years of life from a human-development perspective.

Personal growth includes various crises or hurdles that every child must negotiate in order to grow and develop. We move through different developmental stages.

Let us begin with infancy and the child’s need to develop trust. If a child cannot develop trust through relationships with parents and caregivers, mistrust develops instead.

Let us pause here. There is nothing wrong with a child who is unable to establish trust because an infant is completely dependent upon parents and caregivers.

This is also where attachment styles begin to develop. When we have healthy caregivers or parents, our physical, emotional, and mental needs are met.

During roughly the first two years of life, we are completely dependent upon other people to feed us, play with us, change our diapers, and hold us when we are frightened.

The only way we know to communicate with parents and caregivers is through crying. We cannot form words and say, “Excuse me, I need a diaper change, and I would also like a bottle.”

We cry in different ways—a sad cry, a tired cry, an angry cry, and so forth. Parents and caregivers have to learn to distinguish our needs from the sound of the crying.

They go down the checklist: “I changed your diaper. I fed you. I held you, and you are still crying.” They have to figure it out.

Within the first two years of life, we develop a keen sense of whether we can make our needs known and whether someone will help meet them. If we are hungry, someone feeds us. If we have a dirty diaper or a full-blown blowout, someone cleans us.

A healthy balance between trust and mistrust allows us to remain open to new experiences while staying aware of potential dangers. Without that balance, we may develop anxiety or hopelessness.

The message may take root that it is unsafe to let other people know our needs, that we cannot depend on anyone, or that if we want something done, we have to do it ourselves. Those are adult interpretations, but their roots begin in infancy.

From a spiritual perspective, people who develop a strong attachment of love and trust with someone often have an easier time saying goodbye when that loved one dies. It may not seem logical, but it demonstrates how powerful trust can be in a relationship, especially as we grow older.

We still do not like having to say goodbye at the time of a loved one’s death. However, the stronger the trusting attachment, the more likely we are to work through loss and grief than if that attachment of trust was never formed.

The trust or mistrust formed during the first two years remains with us and influences our ability to make friends and bond emotionally with others.

The second developmental stage occurs approximately between ages two and four, when we negotiate autonomy versus shame and doubt.

This stage involves developing personal control and independence. We find our legs, become increasingly mobile, begin to stand, take a few steps, and learn to balance. Then, watch out. We are off.

We no longer walk; we run. We explore and become inquisitive about new things. Toddlers begin learning to dress themselves, play with toys, interact with other children, and eventually learn that they must play nicely and share.

Has anyone ever taken a toy away from a toddler and watched what happens? Toddlers have not yet learned to share. They think, “This is mine,” and anything in the house they can reach is also “mine,” regardless of how much it costs.

According to Erik Erikson, who devised these stages of human development, toilet training also occurs during this period. It is crucial to learning physical control and, ultimately, developing autonomy.

Success in managing bodily functions and making simple choices leads to a sense of personal power and autonomy. It increases independence and the child’s sense of being able to survive in the world: “Look what I can do.”

Erikson’s third stage of psychosocial development occurs during the preschool years, somewhere between ages three and five or four and six, depending on whom you ask.

At this stage, children begin to assert themselves. They make friends, find playmates, learn to get along with others, and grow increasingly inquisitive. They want to know everything about anything.

At that age, my favorite question was, “Why? Why? Why? Why does it work this way? Why do I have to do what I am told? Why can’t I climb a tree? Why do people look different? Why?”

Can you feel the energy behind those questions?

Constant questioning and exploration by young children can be emotionally and physically tiring. Try running after a four- or five-year-old. They will outrun you, so you have to keep up.

The danger arises when all that energy, exploration, and initiative are curtailed by parents or caregivers. A child may interpret the restriction as, “I must be a nuisance,” which can inhibit future interactions with other people.

Children are less likely to explore if they are constantly told, “No, don’t do that.”

When children are restricted from exploring their world through parental control or persistent criticism, they can develop guilt. When they are encouraged to explore and ask questions, they learn to take greater initiative in life.

If children are not successful in this area, they may experience guilt and self-doubt and become less likely to develop a sense of purpose later in life. The adult version of the conversation may sound like, “I am not going to take a chance. I am not going to stick my neck out. I do not know. If I am not guaranteed success, I am not even going to try.”

Those are adult conversations, but they begin during this developmental stage.

Finding a balance between initiative and guilt is essential to developing a healthy mindset that helps us believe in ourselves.

You can see that during the first six years of life, we face significant mental, emotional, and physical challenges.

I am coming up against a break. Because this broadcast is prerecorded, I will not be taking calls during the second half of the show. However, if you would like to send comments about this topic, please visit bbsradio.com/ReclaimingAuthenticity.

You are listening to Reclaiming Authenticity. I am your host, Dr. James Hough, and I will be back with you in one minute.

Thank you.

[Program Break]

Welcome back. Again, I am Dr. James Hough, and you are listening to Reclaiming Authenticity.

Earlier in the show, I talked about having conversations with our younger selves at any given moment.

People are often reminded of their younger selves when they look at an old photograph or find pictures from childhood or their early twenties. Yet we do not necessarily need a younger photograph to remind us of the conversations our younger selves are having with us today.

We do not have to imagine any of this. Many of us could make a long list of those conversations right now. They are the moments when we are reminded of unhealed childhood wounds.

These conversations can arise anywhere—at work, at home, at school, in a restaurant, or while shopping. The setting does not matter because they often emerge within relationships. Almost anything can trigger them, but relationships with other people are frequent triggers.

The conversations may sound like our present-day voices. We may struggle with guilt, shame, or other emotions. However, the original voice comes from a deeper and more distant place: a younger version of ourselves that has not yet resolved trauma, disappointment, toxic family patterns, or other relational issues.

When you heal unresolved childhood wounds, you become the generation that heals yourself and helps heal others moving forward. That healing can also affect the intergenerational lineage of those who came before you.

In the first half of the show, I emphasized that healing the inner child is necessary for continued mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual growth.

If we ignore these childhood voices, we can remain stuck in one of the first three developmental stages—infancy, toddlerhood, or early childhood—for the rest of our lives.

Think about how much we experience during the first six years. Those experiences can establish patterns that may take a lifetime to work through.

How many of us continue to struggle with trust in relationships? How many struggle with shame? Do we still carry guilt about what we cannot do or what we once believed we could never do?

Whenever I have a client who is “digging up the past,” I encourage that person to ask why the process is essential to healing. Ignoring the past simply will not work any longer.

I often use a metaphor with clients: unresolved childhood wounds are the ones handing us the shovels and picks. What do you hear? How old were you when you first heard it?

Alongside the need to heal mental, emotional, and physical childhood wounds, there is also a spiritual benefit. Healing helps us remember and embrace ourselves as souls. Spiritual growth is as important to relationships as every other area of our lives.

One of my graduate-school teachers, Bob Wicks, was fond of using an acorn as a metaphor for spiritual growth and the work of counseling and therapy.

He said, “When you look at an acorn, look closely until you can see its potential to grow into an enormous oak tree.” Then he said, “Begin looking at your clients that way. Help them believe in their potential.”

That principle does not apply only to clients. It applies to children, grandchildren, and people throughout our relationships. Can you see the potential in other people to lead healthier and more healed lives?

He went on to say that a therapist’s role in counseling is to help a client remove everything from the past or present that hinders growth and well-being, just as we might clear away anything that would prevent an acorn from growing.

Remove the things in your life that are toxic to living fully.

I will never forget that metaphor because it is powerful. An acorn grows into a tall oak, and the image applies to everyday life.

It urges us to leave behind immature habits, impulsive reactions, learned helplessness, and victimhood as we grow older.

Having conversations with the inner child helps us understand the wounded parts of ourselves that hold early childhood experiences, memories, and emotional injuries.

Getting in touch with the inner child helps unlock areas of the subconscious that influence present-day reactions in personal and professional relationships. It also helps us recognize emotional patterns.

This work can be an effective way to process wounded-child issues through practices such as reparenting ourselves. Give your inner child the care, validation, and support that you may not have received during the first six years of life.

I remember doing this exercise myself. I believe my five-year-old self was speaking to me, and I realized that I carried woundedness that needed attention.

I worked through a great deal by forgiving, releasing, and learning to live in gratitude. One of the things I did to reparent my five-year-old self was take him out for an ice-cream cone.

That may sound ridiculous, but my little five-year-old self said, “I want an ice-cream cone.”

I replied, “Okay, let’s get an ice-cream cone.” Even as an adult, I was not going to turn that down.

It had to be orange sherbet. There was a reason for that. Orange was the favorite color of both my five-year-old self and my adult self, and something about the taste was soothing.

When I was a little older than five, I would be there whenever the ice-cream truck came through the neighborhood, and I always wanted an orange Dreamsicle. I loved the taste of orange, and I still do.

That is one example of how we can reparent ourselves by giving our inner child the care, validation, and support we may not have received during the first six years of life.

During those first six years, we learn to build trust or reinforce mistrust. We develop independence or struggle with shame and self-doubt. We are allowed to explore our world and remain open to new experiences, or we struggle with guilt and talk ourselves out of trying something new before we begin.

A wounded inner child can manifest through emotional triggers, self-sabotaging behavior, and difficulty forming healthy relationships later in life.

Even experiences that seem minor, such as witnessing conflict between parents or feeling rejected, can leave lasting psychological scars. Recognizing these patterns is the first step toward healing.

When conflict occurs early in life between a parent and child, healing must focus on rebuilding connection and repairing the relationship. This includes acknowledging feelings, validating emotions, and working toward a solution.

You can do this work with a living parent, or you can do it within your relationship with your older self.

What feelings were you not allowed to express? Which emotions were stifled? Which emotions were never validated?

It is possible to find solutions and heal from mistrust, shame, and guilt. This kind of inner work teaches the wounded child that mistakes are normal and can be resolved. The wounded inner child may not yet know that.

You know me by now. I always say that relationships are where we experience our deepest mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual wounds. Yet healthy relationships are also where we can experience our deepest healing and transformation.

Every now and then, I still have meaningful conversations with my 15-year-old self.

When I was in high school, I attended a vo-tech school. I was shingling a mock roof with two other people, and my job was to cut the shingles to fit at the end of each row.

There I was with a utility knife and straightedge. With every pass of the knife, the blade became duller, which meant that I had to apply more pressure to score the shingle.

It was just before lunch. On the final pass, the utility knife appeared to jump over the straightedge and cut across my thumb.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in the emergency room receiving eight stitches because of my haste.

Little did I know that my 15-year-old self would teach me something about healing for the rest of my life: healing occurs from the inside out.

During the first few days after the accident, every time I accidentally bumped my thumb, it began bleeding again. The pain told me that healing was still a long way off.

Eventually, the wound closed and the stitches came out, but my thumb remained tender.

Here is the lesson my 15-year-old self reminds me of again and again. Whenever I look at the scar left by that accident, I still have the memory of the incident, but I no longer have pain within the memory.

I can press or tap my thumb, and it does not hurt. Why? Because it healed from the inside out.

The same is true of the other wounds we carry, especially the wounds that other people cannot see. Mental, emotional, and spiritual wounds also need to heal from the inside out.

Listening to the healed inner child has tremendous benefits. The healed child reminds us of lessons that we carry throughout the rest of our lives.

Listen to your wounded inner child. Listen to your healed inner child. Both can teach you what still needs to heal and remind you how healing has already taken place. Then we can go into the world and bring healing to the pain of others.

I am Dr. James Hough, and you have been listening to Reclaiming Authenticity. Thank you again for joining me this hour.

Until next time, everybody, be safe. Behave yourselves, and may you rest in the palm of God’s hands. Good night.

Speaker 3 – Prerecorded Closing Announcer:

For answers, to leave comments, or perhaps to buy a book by Dr. Hough, it is all there. Wander over to ReclaimingAuthenticity.com and click around.

We will see you next time on BBS Radio.